Bevy
by mascaret
Summary: Short bit. Time period deliberately vague.


A/N Thank you Maria for taking the time to beta check this.

Albus Dumbledore made his way to the Transfiguration classroom. Given the hour, he hadn't expected to find any students still remaining. In his days teaching the class, it had been customary for the students to fall all over each other in a desperate bid to be first out the door as soon as the bell rang. So with no thought to being an interruption, he pushed open the classroom door after only the most perfunctory of knocks.

"Professor McGonagall, Mr. Weasley, my apologies for interrupting. When you have a moment, Professor, I need your book selections for next year. I will be in the staff room."

He started to retreat back out the door, but Minerva held him back. "By all means stay, Professor Dumbledore. This will only take a moment."

Returning her gaze to the young man before her, she again spoke. "What is it you wished to speak to me about this time, Mr. Weasley?"

The red haired boy's face turned a, well a very Weasley color as he stammered out an answer. "Professor, I have been thinking a lot lately about you - I mean it! I mean it! And I would like to train to become an animagus."

Despite, or perhaps because of, her raised eyebrow and piercing look, Mr. Weasley pressed on. "I know it will be many months, maybe years even, of hard work together and late nights training-"

"Mr. Weasley," Minerva cut him off rather brusquely. "Given the difficulty and the danger involved, I only offer the option of Animagi lessons to a select few students in my Seventh year N.E.W.T. class. While the official Ministry exam report will not be distributed until July, I feel confident enough in my knowledge of your work to say you at best scored an 'Acceptable' but more likely will be receiving a 'Poor'. As the minimum that I require is an 'Exceeds Expectation,' you will not be in my N.E.W.T. level class." Without allowing the slightest opportunity for Mr. Weasley to argue his case, Minerva went on. "Now will there be anything else?"

Though Mr. Weasley looked somewhat deflated as he shook his head, Albus doubted the effect would last long. From Professor McGonagall's exasperated response at the staff table this morning to some of the other professors' amused chatter about her 'Weasley predicament', he gathered that said Weasley was a rather tenacious young man. No doubt by tomorrow he would come up with yet another ploy.

After allowing the dejected young man to pass, Albus entered the room more properly.

"I must say, Professor McGonagall, I was quite surprised to overhear your response to Mr. Weasley. At Hogwarts, it has always been my understanding that we do all that we can to encourage the students."

Not bothering to look up from her desk, Minerva countered. "Believe me, Albus, that is the last thing that that boy needs. He has been carrying on just fine without any encouragement from me. If he stared at one of his text books half as much as he…if I thought for even a moment that he had the slightest genuine interest in Transfiguration…" Minerva shook her head.

Albus smiled. Mr. Weasley's boldness gave him an idea, though truth be told, it was perhaps not one of his better ideas. In speaking, he hoped for his voice to come out at least close to natural sounding. "Ah yes, you do seem to have a bevy of red-headed admirers of late."

Her snort in response was not particularly lady-like, nor was it the response he had been hoping for. Rising from her desk, Minerva headed to a cabinet near him. "A bevy? I should hope not! Believe me, one moony eyed Weasley is more than plenty for me."

Unsure if her oversight was unintentional or an attempt to brush aside his affections as tactlessly as she had young Mr. Weasley's, he pressed on. Albus waited until she had retrieved the parchment he had arrived looking for and was again facing him before fingering a strand of his own hair.

"Well, I admit it is mostly silver now, but from time to time I do still find an auburn strand or two."

Minerva wore a more than slightly startled look. He would almost say it bordered on disbelief. With the slight hope that her reaction was in response to the literal interpretation of his words and not their implication, he continued speaking. "Not often mind you, but it has happened."

As she continued to stare at him, a quite becoming blush began to suffuse across her cheeks. Knowing this quite definitely might not be one of his better ideas, Albus leaned forward to brush his lips against hers.

After allowing a moment to elapse and having heard no sounds of protest, he moved slightly closer. He began to part his lips in the hope of deepening the kiss, but Minerva pulled back.

Seeing Minerva's hand rise to her mouth, Albus began damage control. "I apologize, if I have overstepp-"

Minerva shook her head. "Your beard, it tickles."

Albus didn't quite know how to respond to that. "I see. Most unfortunate."

Minerva nodded. "It may take some time to become accustomed to."

Albus smiled. "And would that be something that you might be amenable to?"

Though she offered no proper answer, Albus found her response of brushing her lips against his, to be a suitable substitute.

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End file.
